


I Owe You

by spooninspoon417



Category: Jessica Jones (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/F, Post-Canon, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-25
Updated: 2015-11-25
Packaged: 2018-05-03 07:22:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5281889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spooninspoon417/pseuds/spooninspoon417
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jessica pays Claire a visit post-finale.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Owe You

You don’t know how you always end up in these situations. First Matt, now Jessica Jones and Luke Cage, two enigmas you can’t quite wrap your head around. Matt wore his heart on his sleeve, but these two are impossible to describe in a way that would do them justice. They’re hard and soft all at once, with steel walls built between themselves and everybody else. You’re not dumb enough to think they’ll drop those defenses, but a ‘thank you’ would be nice. 

It takes a month for that particular sentiment to fall from either of their lips. The constantly drunken puzzle that is Jessica Jones shows up on your doorstep. She isn’t drunk, though, and that strikes you as progress. You suppose that killing an arch enemy would damage an already damaged person further, but Jessica seems calm. If you could be fearful of people like her, you would be right now. 

“Hey.” She says, holding up a paper bag that has the suspicious shape of a bottle of booze. 

You wonder how she knows where you live. Then, you remember. “You’re a P.I.” 

Her eyes narrow with her amusement. “Yes, Claire.” 

You decide that you kind of enjoy the way Jessica Jones says your name. It almost reminds you of Matt, if Matt were a messy woman with an unsure smile and a self-destructive nature. Well, the two of them did have the last part in common. “That’s how you found my address.” 

“Yes, Claire.” She says again, now smirking outright. 

You’ve never seen her do that. Your eyes practically roll out of your skull as you take the bag from her, peeking inside to confirm that she’s brought Wild Turkey to your apartment at 10 pm on a Wednesday. She walks in, both hands sliding into the pockets of her leather jacket, her eyes scanning your home with a detective’s curiosity. You close the door and press yourself against it, watching Jessica put you together in her head. It doesn’t take long. “You throw yourself into your work.” 

A laugh bubbles out of you. “That’s not hard to figure out.” 

“But, you like your work. It makes you feel important, useful, in control of something. That’s what you told me, right? Everything is your fault?”

You nod because for once your words have failed you. 

“You’re a good person, Claire. An actual hero.” 

Her heavy footsteps follow you into the kitchen, where you take down a glass from a top cabinet and pour the bourbon. Jessica’s standing so close you can feel her body heat seeping into the air between you. Your nerves jump in response to it, though you can’t quite put your finger on what about this woman does that to you. You hand her the drink, your fingers brushing her warm skin. She’s looking at you, her expression inscrutable, those walls you hate so much clearly in place. “Why are you here?” 

She takes a long sip, looking away from you as she does. When her eyes find yours again, she seems determined, as if a switch had been flipped. “I wanted to say thank you. For what you did.” 

“It’s my job.” 

“We both know you went far beyond the call of duty.” 

You duck your head and smile, understanding without being told that you’re getting far more from Jessica Jones than most. “You’re welcome.” 

She steps closer and wraps you in a hug. Her arms are strong and sure and you feel secure for the first time since Matt. You squeeze her tight just before she pulls back. Something’s changed on her face, but you can’t put a name to it. You don’t try. Instead, you lean forward, touching her lips with your own. It lasts for only a few seconds, but you can feel her reciprocating, her mouth just as sure as her embrace. She lets go and her walls go down for the first time since you met her. You don’t know what’s come over you, how you keep finding yourself in this position with the heroes of Hell’s Kitchen. You don’t think you’d trade it for anything if given the option and that’s kind of fucked up. 

Jessica’s not quite smiling, but she isn’t scowling, either. She takes the Wild Turkey and begins to walk away. You want to stop her. The problem is, you don’t trust yourself not to say something you’ll regret. Jessica turns back toward you. “By the way, I owe you a favor. The number’s on that card I gave you. Feel free to use it anytime.” 

Your only thought as the door is closing is that Jessica Jones is a mystery you’d like to solve.


End file.
